Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
She smiles wider, but then her eyes start to glimmer. Tears cling to her lashes. She tries to keep herself together for a moment, but shortly breaks down. She turns as if to flee the office.
I catch her hand and pull her against me, letting her press her face against my chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, gently sliding my hand through her hair.
“It’s just—” She squeezes against me tighter.
“Everything?” I ask gently. “Your grandmother? The new job? Us? I know it’s fast.”
She leans back in my arms, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “I just want to forget for one night,” she murmurs. “To pretend that nothing else is happening. Like you said with your mom, with her music. Nothing else. Just the date.”
I kiss her on the forehead. We only kissed for the first time yesterday, but it feels so natural, no awkwardness, no effort. That’s because it’s too good to be true, my father taunts in my mind.
But for once, I decide not to listen to him.
“Then let’s forget,” I say softly.
“Yeah?” She murmurs, as if she’s surprised, like she’s so used to being beaten down, she’s suspicious of flying.
“Yes,” I say firmly, kissing her again.
CHAPTER 13
IZZY
Dominic: I’m on my way.
Izzy: You shouldn’t be texting while driving.
Dominic: Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.
Ishake my head in disbelief. I was able to get excited about the date before he said he was on his way here and texting. Aaron hasn’t contacted me today. Grandma was able to play a game of Scrabble. Life is good. At least, better than I can reasonably expect.
Izzy: You won’t be fine! I’m not texting back until you get here.
Dominic:
His reaction to the message makes me doubt the date for a second. There’s undeniable chemistry there. The heat I feel when I’m in his presence…
But being so casual about dangerous driving is a major red flag in my book.
Dominic: You’ll break my heart. Which is quite an achievement, considering I’d been living under the assumption I didn’t HAVE a heart for a long time.
I ignore the text, looking at myself in the mirror. After drying my hair, I let it stay a little wild, a little messy, which he likes. But now I’m wondering if I went too far. I’m wearing a black dress, one I haven’t touched in two years, with black lace across my cleavage.
I stride into the living room, anxiously holding my phone in my hand.
Dominic: Are you mad at me, beautiful?
Izzy: Is that ANOTHER nickname?
Dominic: I thought you weren’t texting me back.
Izzy: I don’t think joking about reckless driving is funny. You need your full attention on the road.
A minute passes, then a video appears in the conversation. I click it, a smile immediately claiming my lips. It’s a selfie view. Dom is wearing a dark blue suit, his shirt open at the collar. He raises a glass of champagne to the camera, then turns so that I can see the road moving by behind him. He turns the camera to front-facing, presenting the inside of a limo.
Dominic: Happy now?
Izzy:
Izzy: I think you like playing games with me.
The hypocrisy is absurd—
No. Nope. I won’t go there, not tonight. We had a deal. Forget for a little while. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s agreeing to.
Dominic: You need to return the favor.
Izzy: You’re not going to ask me for nudes, are you?
Dominic: No, not yet.
I find the closest mirror and adjust my hair, aiming the camera so it cuts off halfway up my torso, showing my lace-covered cleavage. I’m wearing more makeup than usual, especially around my eyes, but not much else.
Izzy: Disappointing.
I attach the image.
Dominic: Holy hell, Izzy. You look incredible.
Izzy: It’s Photoshop.
I text with self-deprecating sarcasm.
Dominic: You’re angelic.
Izzy: And you’re dangerously close to love-bombing.
Dominic: Doesn’t that rely on it all being false? I’ll be outside your apartment building in two minutes.
Izzy: I’ll come down and meet you.
I reply and put my phone in my handbag.
He’s already outside when I get downstairs, standing next to the limo with a small package in his hand. He gives it to me, our fingers brushing. I open it to find an open envelope without any writing on it.
“What’s this?” I murmur.
He looks at me almost as if he’s nervous, a boyish look in his eyes despite his strong, firm features. “Take a look,” he says. “Something a little different.”
I tip the contents into my hand. It’s a voucher for ten hours of violin practice with a well-regarded virtuoso in the city. Tears brim in my eyes. I’m starting to annoy myself with all this emotion. But can you blame me?
“This is too much,” I whisper.
“Really? I almost bought you a violin—”
“What? No! That is too much.”
He smiles, nodding. “Somehow, I knew you’d feel that way. I think this is a fair middle ground.”